


Sympathy

by SCFrankles



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Community: fan_flashworks, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 08:20:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6231217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SCFrankles/pseuds/SCFrankles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not easy putting up with geniuses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sympathy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Challenge 148: Up](http://fan-flashworks.livejournal.com/638399.html) at [Fan Flashworks](http://fan-flashworks.livejournal.com/) on LJ.
> 
> This fic was inspired by The Adventure of the Retired Colourman - the story in which Holmes' 'rival' Barker appears. And there's perhaps a cheeky nod to a scene in Sherlock's TSoT. 
> 
> Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson are the creations of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> * * *

Some time after the case concerning the retired colourman had been completed, Holmes and Barker worked together again.

 

Watson stood together with Barker’s female associate, and watched as the two detectives searched the muddy ground for evidence.

He turned to Miss Whittaker. 

“Just wanted to say,” he murmured, “how lovely it is to finally meet someone who _understands.”_

“Indeed…” said Miss Whittaker. She leant closer. “Mine’s taken up the banjo, you know.”

Watson winced. “Mine’s been experimenting with atonality.”

Miss Whittaker nodded in sympathy. 

“Mine’s got half of the sitting room floor covered with his papers now.”

“Ha!” said Watson. 

Barker glanced at him briefly over the top of his sun-glasses, and Watson dropped his voice again. 

“I haven’t seen our sitting room floor since 1895.” 

“Hum...” said Miss Whittaker. 

She stared at Barker, who was attempting to examine something on the ground through his dark lenses.

“Mine absolutely refuses to give up those wretched grey-tinted spectacles.”

Watson looked on in bemusement as Holmes got down on the ground and began licking the ‘something’, his bottom stuck high in the air.

“Well,” he said. “Mine just likes making a spectacle of himself.”


End file.
